


Novak Tech

by allfordean



Series: Fic Requests [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3792418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allfordean/pseuds/allfordean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a fic request from <a href="http://goodnightgadreel.tumblr.com">goodnightgadreel</a>.</p><p>Dean calls a local tech support to get help fixing his brother's laptop. It'd have been over a lot faster if the other guy's voice hadn't been so damn appealing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Novak Tech

Dean Winchester blinked at the black computer screen in front of him, silently begging it to show some sign of life. “Shit,” he whispered. “Shit. Goddamnit.”

Sam was going to kill him.

“Hey, Dean, have you seen my laptop?”

Nearly leaping off his bed at the sound of his brother’s voice, Dean gulped and slammed the laptop shut. “What? No? Why, is it missing?” He scurried to his bedroom door and made sure it was locked, heaving a sigh of relief when he realized his brother couldn’t get in.

“Yeah, I thought I left it on the kitchen table when I went out, but it’s not there,” Sam said from the other side of the door. “It’s not in my room, either. Did you take it, Dean? Because if you’re using _my_ laptop to watch porn again, I swear to God-”

“No, I didn’t take the damn thing, Sam,” Dean lied.

After a few seconds of silence, Sam uttered a “fine” and walked away.

Dean rolled his eyes and scurried back to his brother’s unresponsive laptop. “Shit.”

 

“Ash says he’s busy.”

Dean grit his teeth. “Damn it, Jo, I need to get this thing fixed before Sam finds out I broke it,” he told his friend through the phone. “Ash is the tech wizard of the group, can’t he just take, like, two seconds to help me out here?”

“He’s too busy helping _me_ out, Dean. We need him to fix the Roadhouse’s radio problem. What about Charlie? Can’t she help?”

“She’s at some nerd convention for the weekend, remember?”

“Right.” Jo blew out a puff of air. “Well, Ash recommended some tech place in town. He said it’s cheaper if you call.”

“What, so they’ll give me a walkthrough of how to fix this thing?”

“Yeah, I guess. Or tell you to bring it in if they can’t. Want the number?”

“Fine.”

 

“Novak Tech, you’ve reached the support line. This is Castiel. How can I help you?”

Dean smirked at the deep, apathetic voice on the other end. “Castiel, huh? That's different.”

An exasperated sigh. “I'm aware. Now, how can I help you?”

“Guess I'm not the first one to point that out.”

“You've guessed correctly. Can I help you, sir?”

“Uh, yeah, my, uh, my laptop stopped working,” Dean said, taking a seat at the edge of his bed.

“Have you looked through the troubleshooting manual that came with the product?”

 _I’d have to ask my brother for it, and he doesn’t know it’s broken_ , Dean couldn’t say. “I threw it out.”

“Of course you did,” Castiel muttered not-quite-under his breath. “In what way is the laptop broken?”

Dean threw a wary glance at the direction of his brother's treasured computer. “The screen's black. And I can't get it to turn on.”

“Do you have any idea what might have caused the screen to go black?”

“You really sound like you love your job,” Dean chuckled.

“It’s exhilarating,” Castiel said dryly. “Listening to technologically inept people talk about their problems is the highlight of my day.”

Thinning his lips, Dean lay back on his bed and put his free hand behind his neck. “Sorry, man. I’ve had my fair share of shitty jobs.”

“I should apologize,” Castiel said with a tired sigh. “I shouldn’t take out my frustrations on you. Your problems are valid.”

“Well, thanks, Castiel, that’s sweet,” Dean said, licking his lips as he teased the other man. After a few seconds of silence, Dean bit his tongue, then asked, “Was that weird?”

“A bit,” Castiel answered with a hint of laughter.

Dean beamed. “You’ve got a cute laugh.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. “Sorry, that was awkward. Hard to resist flirting when you’ve got a voice like that, though.”

“A voice like wh- Wait, flirting?”

Dean let out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry, man, there’re probably a billion lines I’m crossing here. You’re supposed to be working and here I am being a creep.” When there was more silence, Dean coughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Uh… so, the laptop?”

“Right. Your laptop.” A pause. “Do you have any idea what might have caused it to go black?”

 _BustyAsianBeauties.com._ Dean clenched his jaw. “Nope.”

“A virus, perhaps? From an untrustworthy website?”

Dean remained silent.

“In my experience, silence on this issue usually means the customer has been visiting pornographic w-”

“Yeah, okay, fine, you got me,” Dean muttered. “It was porn.” He could swear he heard a laugh on the other end of the line. “Hey, a man’s gotta relax every once in a while.”

“Alright, sir.”

“Dean.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name’s Dean. I figured, y’know, since you know the dirty details of how I spend my free time, we’ve reached the point in our relationship where you should know my name.”

“Alright, Dean,” Castiel said. “Well, I think it would work best for you if you brought the product to our location on Haven Avenue.”

Dean frowned. “You can’t get it done today?”

“Not over the phone. However, we don’t close until ten tonight. I’m sure that, if you live in town, we can have it fixed within an hour.”

“Haven Avenue?” Dean asked, sitting up and reaching for his shoes at the foot of the bed. “What’s the address?”

“1545 East Haven Avenue, Lawrence, Kans-”

“Yeah, I got it,” Dean chuckled. “Be there in about half an hour. Thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Castiel said, and Dean could almost _hear_ his smile. He wondered what it would look like. How old was the guy, anyway? Dean was about to ask what was definitely none of his business when Castiel wished him luck and hung up.

“Damn,” Dean muttered.

 

Novak Tech was considerably nicer than Dean had imagined it to be. From Castiel’s unenthusiastic tone, he’d figured it was a dull, dark store that rarely had any business. But the place was nicer than the Apple store Sam had dragged Dean into a few months before, and Dean ended up standing in line for ten minutes before he could get any help.

“Next,” the woman behind the counter said.

Dean walked up to the counter, setting the laptop on it. “Hey… Naomi,” Dean said upon glancing at the woman’s name tag. “I need this fixed. A, uh, a virus made the screen go black.”

Naomi gave Dean a polite smile and gestured to the stack of papers on the space next to the laptop. “Fill out this form while you wait for our tech support to get it back in working condition.”

Nodding, Dean grabbed a pen from the counter and took the form, moving to sit down at their waiting area. “Hey,” he said, turning back to face Naomi, “is there a Castiel here?”

A forced smile crossed Naomi’s face as she said, “He just left.”

“Damn,” Dean said under his breath. “Thanks, anyway.”

Dean was lucky enough to get the laptop fixed and back in Sam’s room before his brother could ask about it again.

 

Not even two days later, Dean called Novak Tech a second time. He couldn’t get Castiel’s stupidly handsome voice out of his head, and it was driving him nuts.

“Yo, tech support for Novak yada yada, this is Gabriel. Whataya need?”

Dean frowned. “Seriously? That’s how you answer the phone for a professional-”

“Look, buddy, you do you, I do me. Unless you’re hot and you wanna do some variation of that scenario.”

Rolling his eyes, though silently logging that pick up line away for later usage, Dean said, “Well, that’s creepy. Look, _buddy_ , I need to talk to Castiel.”

“Oh hoh hoh, are you the guy from Saturday? Dean?”

Dean felt himself turn pink, his breath hitching. “He told you about me?” _That’s gotta mean something_.

“‘He had the most pleasing voice’,” Gabriel said, presumably attempting to mimic Castiel’s deep tone. “‘He was so relaxed, I forgot I was working for a moment.’ Yeah, pal, he told me. _Gushed_ is more like it. Which is a lot from him, ‘cause he usually isn’t very-”

Dean barely heard an angry “Gabriel!” on the other end, and his heart skipped a beat as he recognized the voice to be Castiel’s. “Is that him? Is he there right now?”

“God,” Gabriel said, dragging out the “aw” sound, “you two are pathetic. And a little creepy. Do you even know how old each other are? What if Castiel here is underage? What if he’s sixty?” There was another flustered shout of Gabriel’s name, and the employee chuckled. “Alright, I’ll transfer you to his line, Deanie boy.”

“I apologize,” Castiel said, not five seconds later. “My brother is a dick.”

Dean quirked a brow, licking his lips upon hearing the other man’s voice so close to his ear. “That was your brother?”

“Unfortunately,” Castiel sighed. “Um, what can I help you with this time? Did your laptop get fixed?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I did. _It_ did. It got… fixed.” Dean closed his eyes and mourned the death of his suave speaking skills.

“...So?”

“So…?”

“What do you need?”

 _Oh, right_ , Dean thought, _most people call tech support because they actually need help fixing something_. “Uh…”

“Dean?”

“I-it’s my printer,” Dean stammered, then rolled his eyes. _Get your shit together, Winchester_. “My printer keeps, uh… spitting out paper. Like, really, it’s a problem. There’s paper all over my floor. It won’t stop coming out.”

“Did you turn it off and then back on again?”

Dean grinned. “Did you really just say that? That is the most stereotypical tech support thing you can say.”

“It’s a stereotype for a reason.”

Looking down at his lap, Dean chuckled, “I guess so.”

“So, did you?”

“Did I what?”

Castiel sighed, yet he sounded more admiring than annoyed. “Did you turn it off and on again?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Didn’t work.” Dean stood from the edge of his bed and moved to lean against the wall, folding his free arm over his chest. “So, how old _are_ you? Your brother had a point.”

“I’m thirty-three years old. Did y-”

Castiel was cut off when Dean accidentally ended the call. “Shit! Damn it!” He dialed back as quickly as he could. _Smooth, Dean. Smooth._ “Thirty,” he said as soon as the ringing stopped, hoping Castiel picked up before Gabriel could.

“Dean?” Castiel said, a hint of amusement in his gravelly tone. “Did you hang up on me?”

“Believe me, it was an accident.”

“So, you’re thirty, then?”

“Yeah.” _In your dating range, I hope_ , Dean couldn’t help but think. He began wondering what Castiel might look like. What color were his eyes? Did his face fit his voice? 

Castiel was silent for a moment. Then, as if remembering his job, asked, “Did you try to print something earlier, or did the printer start acting up on its own?”

Forcing himself out of his daydream, Dean nodded. “I was printing a… a… picture.”

“Okay…” Castiel let out a huff before saying, “Dean.”

“Hm?”

“You could have taken the paper out of your printer.” A few seconds of silence passed by before the man added, “I doubt a printer could hold enough to be ‘spitting out’ paper for more than… Dean, are you making this up?”

Gulping, Dean shrugged, his arm falling to his side with a quiet thud. “You got me. I don’t even _own_ a printer.”

Dean could hear Castiel’s breath hitch, and what sounded like someone leaning back in an office chair. “You called me just to… just to talk to me.”

“Guilty,” Dean admitted.

“That’s…,” Castiel sucked in a breath. “My brother was right.”

A small smile crossed Dean’s face as he moved to sit on his bed once again. “Yeah, I guess he’s a smart guy.”

“But still a dick.”

Chuckling, Dean nodded. “But still a dick. It must be fun working with him.”

“I love my brother, but… working with family _is_ a pain in the ass at times. Still, it could be worse,” Castiel mused. “At least Gabriel isn’t as eager to live up to the family name as some of my other siblings. The Novaks are an obsessively success-seeking family, unfortunately.”

Dean knit his brows. “Wait, the Novaks? As in Novak Tech?”

“It’s a family business.” Castiel let out a tired sigh. “It’s _my_ family’s business, and I’m stuck with it.”

“I know the feeling…,” Dean muttered. “My dad wanted me and my brother to take over his business, but we had other plans. Sammy wanted to be a lawyer, and I wanted to work with cars.”

“What did you do?”

“Moved out, got a place with my brother. Sam went to law school, and I got a job as a mechanic with my dad’s old friend.”

“And your father?”

Dean looked down. “He was pissed at first. But, he’s dead now, so… I guess it doesn’t matter.” He chuckled to himself, then swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I… I’m sorry, Dean.”

“It was for the best, he was an abusive piece of shit. I’m over it.”

Castiel was silent for a moment. “My father left Novak Tech, and the country, shortly after starting the business,” he said finally. “Now my brothers and sisters are fighting over who gets to run it.”

“Look at us and our daddy issues,” Dean quipped.

“Indeed.”

“So… you don’t wanna work there anymore?”

“No. I have other priorities than shallow success,” Castiel sighed. “So does Gabriel. He’s planning on quitting soon, I believe.”

Dean heard Gabriel shout, “Damn right I am!” Chuckling, Dean shook his head. “Hey, maybe you should join him, then,” he suggested.

“I’m seriously considering it.”

“Good.”

“I’d like to join a non-profit organization. Perhaps I could find a way to use my art to change the world.”

Dean bit his lip as he beamed. “That’s a really admirable goal, Cas.”

“Alright, what’d you do,” Gabriel said loud and clear, having apparently moved closer to the phone. “My brother’s grinning like an idiot and he just turned fifty shades of pink.”

“Gabriel,” Castiel warned. There were muffled sounds of what Dean could only assume was Castiel shoving his brother away from his desk, and then, “I’m sorry about that, Dean.”

“It’s alright, Cas,” Dean laughed.

“No one has ever called me that before.”

Frowning, Dean asked, “What, ‘Cas’?” That seemed like an obvious nickname to him.

“Yes.” A pause. “I like it.”

“Good, ‘cause I plan on using it a lot.”

“To do that, you’d have to spend a lot of time talking to me.”

Grinning, Dean lay back on his bed and said, “That’s the plan.”

The two of them talked until Castiel’s shift ended, learning each other’s favorite activities, where they went to school, and personal food preferences. Dean threatened to hang up when Cas dared to suggest that angel food cake was superior to cherry pie. The quiet laugh Cas let out confirmed Dean’s suspicions that he was screwed. How could he be falling for a _voice_?

Castiel warned Dean that he shouldn’t call back for at least a few days, so that his supervisor didn’t suspect anything. Dean agreed, and told him to have a good night.

 

A full week went by before Dean called Castiel again. He’d gotten swamped with work at the garage, and the one time he’d tried to call, someone named Hannah had politely informed him that Castiel didn’t work that day.

“Novak Tech, you’ve reached the support line. This is Cas-”

“Thank God,” Dean practically groaned. “It’s about damn time.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, man, I-”

“It’s alright, Dean. It’s good to hear your voice.”

Dean’s heart leapt in his chest, a blush rising in his cheeks. “Yeah. You, too.”

“It’s nice to talk to someone who values me as a person. This job makes me question my love for humanity most of the time.” Castiel spoke lightly, wording each sentence as though forming them was a delicate procedure. “But with you… I feel important. Just from the last time we talked, I… I was inspired to paint. I’ve been painting consistently for years, but… I haven’t been _inspired_ in a long time.”

Dean couldn’t find words to reply, he was too busy trying to catch his breath. Was this really happening? What if Cas was some fucked up dude who hated the world and was just making fun of him? This was too good to be true. _Damn it, I need to meet this guy_ , Dean decided.

“I probably shouldn’t have admitted that,” Castiel said after a moment. “But I don’t regret it. I don’t regret talking to you, Dean. I could get fired for this, but… as we talked about before, I don’t really want to work here, anyway. You’ve helped me decide for certain that I want to quit.”

“Don’t do that!” Dean couldn’t help but blurt out his concern. “How would you provide for yourself? And how the hell would I talk to you?”

Castiel chuckled. “I _do_ have a personal number, you know.” He sighed then. “And I’m sure I’ll find a way to make money. Gabriel wants to partner with me, and he knows how to-”

“My calculator’s broken.”

“I… What?”

“My calculator. It’s broken. D’you think you could fix it?”

“Are you talking about a handheld calculator?” Cas asked, his voice flat. “The battery-operated kind? Because that’s hardly something that requires tech-”

“Say you can fix it.”

“Wh-”

“I can bring it in, so you can have a look.” Dean held his breath, hoping Cas would get the idea.

“Oh.”

Clenching his jaw, Dean shrugged. “Or maybe it’s too early to meet. Maybe I’m out of my damned mind and this can’t really go anywh-”

“Bring it in tomorrow. I’ll be here from ten to six.” Castiel sounded the most excited that Dean had ever heard him as he said, “Come over just before I get off. I’ll take a look at your calculator, and then, maybe, we can have dinner together.”

 

Dean could hardly breathe as he drove over to Novak Tech, compulsively checking his hair, breath, and anything else Cas might notice.

“Welcome to Novak Tech,” a young man said. “Do you need help finding anything?”

“Hey, my brother’s name is Sam,” Dean said, smiling as he gestured at the boy’s name tag.

“It’s Samandriel, actually. But Sam is… easier for most people.”

Dean nodded, his brows raised. “Yes it is.” He could only assume Samandriel was Cas’s brother. _What is it with these Novaks and their weirdass names?_ “I’m looking for Castiel. He’s, uh… supposed to help me with a broken… calculator.”

Samandriel gave Dean a funny look, but then smiled and pointed to the back of the store. “He’s back there. I’ll get him for you.” He tilted his head to his shoulder and spoke into the fanciest walkie-talkie Dean had ever seen. “Castiel, there’s a man up front with a broken calculator looking for you.”

“I’ll be out immediately.”

Dean blushed, his heart pounding in his chest as he heard Castiel’s voice come in through the device on Samandriel’s shoulder. “Here we go,” he said under his breath. “Hey, kid, how’s my hair?”

“I’m sure Castiel will think you’re hot as hell, Dean. No worries there.”

The voice came from behind him, and Dean spun on his heels to come face to face with, “Gabriel.”

“That’s me.” Gabriel smirked, a twinkle in his eye as he nodded to the back of the store. “Cas has been fidgeting all day. He wouldn’t shut up about meeting you and he kept trying on different ties all morning. He could barely contain himself, it was sickening.”

Dean’s blush deepened, and he opened his mouth to say something along the lines of “I know the feeling”, but he was silenced by a familiar voice.

“Dean?”

Dean’s heart stopped for a moment, and he sucked in a breath as he turned around. “Holy shit,” he practically gasped. _How is he that hot? What the hell?!_  

Castiel was beaming, his blue eyes shining brightly in the fluorescent lighting of the store. He wore a black suit with a blue tie, and, okay, Dean had never imagined that such a simple outfit could be so goddamn attractive. “Hello, Dean.”

Gabriel walked behind Samandriel and put his hands on his youngest brother’s shoulders, ushering him away. He followed him out of the area, tossing a wink back at Cas.

“You’re…,” Dean let out the breath he’d been holding. “Wow.”

“I know how you feel,” Cas managed to say, his smile never faltering as he breathed steadily. He held Dean’s gaze for several seconds before glancing at the floor, color rising in his cheeks. “I was already smitten with your voice,” he mumbled. “I didn’t expect you to be so… attractive.”

Reaching a hand up to rub nervously at the back of his neck, Dean let out a light chuckle and glanced down. “Yeah… I could say the same of you, Cas. Holy shit.”

Castiel looked up at Dean once more and smiled, then nodded. “I am definitely going to take you to dinner.”

“Not if I take you to dinner first.”

“That… didn’t make much sense,” Cas laughed.

 _God_ , Dean thought, _he’s so beautiful when he does that_.

“I fully intend to buy you dinner, Dean. I’m sure my family’s company charged a ridiculous amount to fix your laptop, so it’s the least I can do.” He added, quietly, “And I admire you, so it’s really no trouble at all.”

Dean bit his lip. “Dinner it is, then. You got a car?”

Shaking his head, Castiel replied, “I usually ride with Gabriel, since we share an apartment.”

“Well, lucky you, I have a car.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She’s a nice one, too. Chevy Impala, 1967.”

Grinning, Castiel began to lead Dean out of the store. “Well, I can’t wait to get to know her, then.” He stopped in his tracks, looking to Dean. “Oh, your calculator.”

“Huh?”

“I was supposed to try to fix your calculator,” Castiel said. “Remember?”

Dean smirked. “What calculator?”

 


End file.
